The Box
by BronsonL
Summary: Steve and Danny are in danger again, and there's another threat to someone close to the ohana. This goes back a little as a tag to Ep 5.08. Steve as the caretaker of potential key evidence against a New York mobster? ...I couldn't resist. Whump, Danny!whump, angst, friendship, bromance, no slash. \,,,/
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Going back a bit to tag 5.08. Was anyone else intrigued by the thought of the implications of Steve holding key evidence against a dangerous New York mobster? Something about it kept bothering me so I thought it was the perfect recipe to flesh out some hurt, comfort, and angst.

 **Dedication** : This story is dedicated to the memory of my sweet, little mama that passed away just a few weeks ago, on May 3. She was my H50 watching partner. She always enjoyed watching H50 with me when I visited. She'd point at Danny with her little crooked, arthritic finger and say, "That's the one I like. He struts like a banty rooster."

Reading/writing FF is my escape and I've needed some escape lately. I wrote a portion of this story during down times, sometimes in the middle of the night, while I stayed with her at the hospital in her last few days. _"That's the one I like too, Mom. This one's for you."_

If anyone is so inclined, consider a donation to Alzheimer's Association or BrightFocus Foundation.

 **Disclaimer** : I don't own anything that is a proper noun. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **The Box**

The heels of the black patent, designer pumps made a soothing, rhythmic sound as she walked across the tile floor of the Navy Federal Credit Union at the Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam. The manager was sitting at his desk behind the glass walls of his corner office with his head propped against his finger and thumb. It was obvious he was deeply ensconced in his work.

The distinct sound made its way through his open door and he instinctually looked up. He was more than willing to take a break from the paperwork he was poring through, when the pretty blond in the rose-colored blouse and perfectly tailored skirt that hit all the right curves, bypassed the queue of people waiting for tellers and went to the not-so-successful attempt at a comfortable waiting area. Instead of taking a seat, she opted to stand. As the manager came out of his office, he held up his hand to a reacting employee to let him know he had this covered. The perceptive woman quickly read the charade of nonchalance coming from the tall man and reined in her desire to roll her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. What can I do to help you today?"

She held up a small key for the manager to see. "I need to get into a safe deposit box." The Australian accent added to the man's attraction and he hoped a flush of color didn't betray him as he quickly turned away.

"Of course. Right this way."

He looked over his shoulder as she followed him to the desk outside of the large vault door. "What is the number?"

"Thirteen twenty-two."

"Alright. I'll need to see your ID."

She passed it over as she was prepared and had it ready. Her aversion to willingly handing over her personal information to the obvious, but inept, skirt chaser was trumped by her desire to follow through on her promise.

"Everything looks in place." He signed his name on the form and rotated the ledger to accommodate her. "Just sign on this line and I'll get you right in."

She smiled disingenuously and put her signature on the line next to his. When they arrived at the deposit box, they each took their turn with their respective keys and he opened the small door. He pointed to a door at the back of the vault. "Would you like to use the private room?"

"No. That won't be necessary."

"Then I'll be right outside. Just let me know when you're ready and…"

"No. You don't have to leave. I'll just be a minute. I just need to retrieve something and you can lock it right back."

The man shrugged and stepped back as she pulled out the metal box and opened it. She removed the five by five by ten inch package wrapped in nondescript brown paper. Its appearance was deceiving as it was heavier than she had expected. She stashed the package in the floral satchel that complemented her blouse.

"This will do it. Thank you for your time," she stated politely with a smile as she hastily walked out.

The manager realized he had probably paused a second too long as he watched her leave and glanced around to his employees to see if they noticed before heading back to his office with a sigh. If they had noticed, they hid it well.

~~~~~H50~~~~~

Steve pulled into one of the parallel parking spots that was available along the one-way street that ran adjacent to the storage building.

"Let's go see what this guy knows, if anything." Steve got his door open before Danny, but his ringing phone stopped him.

Danny took his cue from his partner and also waited before he climbed out. He glanced down at the phone, then looked over at Steve, assuming he'd be informed of the caller's identity as well.

"It's Mary. You go on. I'll be there in a minute." As if getting the confirmation of his own decision, Danny got out of the Camaro without a word or gesture and started for the door.

"Hey, Mare. What's up? Is everything okay? Joannie?"

"Can you give me a minute to answer? You're such a worry freak. Yes, Joannie's okay. I'm okay. Everything's okay… I think, but I did get a weird call today. Someone asking about Deb and Leonard."

"Leonard?"

"Mm, hm. Wouldn't anyone that knew Leonard, know that he's passed?"

"Well, did they say who it was?"

"He said a 'Mr. Laney', or something like that, I'm not sure, wanted to know where he could find them."

"Laney… Laney." Steve rubbed his temple as he thought if that name rang any bells. "Mary, where's Aunt Deb?"

"She's at a spa in Arizona. I just talked to her before I called you. She sounds really good. She seemed to be in much better spirits and was feeling good."

"Good. I'm glad to hear she's doing well. Did she know who this caller was?"

"No. She said it must be an insurance salesman or something. She says she gets a lot of those calls here lately. I just thought it was odd they called _me_."

"Yeah, it was probably nothing. Hey, let me know if you get any more of those calls. So, when are you and little Joannie going to be back on the island?"

"Maybe next month. I'll see if I can work it out. I miss you, big brother."

"I miss you too, sis. Take care, Mary, and I love you."

"I love you, too."

As soon as he hung up from Mary, Steve called Chin.

"Hey, Steve. Any luck with the Barrister lead?"

"Still working on it. But, hey, Chin, didn't you say you have a friend on the force in LA?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Do you think you can get a protection detail to check on Mary and Joannie for me?"

"I'm sure I can. Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so, just want to be sure. Also, can you use my Aunt Deb's number to locate her phone? She should be at a spa in Arizona but I didn't want to worry Mary and ask for more details. I'll tell you more when I get back to the office."

"Sure thing. I'll get right on it. See you guys later."

"Thanks, Chin."

For the next few minutes, Steve was lost in his thoughts. Even though his gaze had been fixed on the mural of the Ka'a'awa Valley painted on the side of the new four-story storage building, he did not _see_ it. The muted click of the car door opening interrupted Steve's thoughts as he processed his conversation with Mary.

"Hey, sorry Danny, I got caught up on the call. How'd it go in there?"

"Not Danny…"

Steve turned to his right to see a gun pointing at him. The man holding the gun on him climbed into the passenger seat.

"…and I'm going to need you to remove your weapon." Steve's slight reactive movement caused the man to augment his first command. "Eh, eh, keep your right hand on the wheel and reach over with your left… slowly, and hand it over." By now, the muzzle of the man's gun was against his temple, daring Steve to resist.

"Okay. Just take it easy." He complied and removed his gun from its holster slowly, just holding it with two fingers as he offered it to the man.

"Now your phone."

He reached his phone over as he glanced back to his left, to the door that his partner had walked through moments before, not sure if he was wanting him to come out or to stay inside.

"He won't be coming. Now start the car."

"What do you mean? Where's Danny?" He chanced another peek toward the door… nothing. Steve felt the muzzle press harder against his head.

"I _said_ start the car and drive."

At that moment, the echoing clap of a gunshot reached his ears. "Danny!" The stimulus caused him to grab the door handle. His body reacted and he had every intention of going in after his partner.

"You do it and he won't be the only one dead."

Steve's eyes narrowed in confusion as he processed the ominous statement and then his face contorted into a scowl. He slowly pulled his hand away from the handle and then both hands went up in submission.

"You son of a bitch. I'll kill you." He stared down this man… this man that would give Danny a run for his money in the realm of hair product. The black shine in his hair and dark suit, in Hawaii no less, reminded him of a young Pacino.

"I don't doubt you'd try, given the chance. Drive! … Now!"

Even with the threat, Steve hesitated and ventured a longing look toward the building. With a sigh and his grimace firmly set, he did as he was told and pulled out into the traffic.

* * *

 _~to be continued~_

\,,,/


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the well wishes and condolences. Also, thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews. It's very much appreciated.

* * *

After entering one of the large open doors of the storage facility, Danny walked across the area on the lower level that appeared to be a typical parking garage for storing cars, boats, and larger items. Many of the spots were taken, but most were still unused in this newer facility. He saw the enclosed area, labeled as the office, in the back corner. He tried and found the sturdy door leading into the office to be locked, but a wire-reinforced glass window allowed him to see a young Polynesian holding up his finger as he walked a few steps behind the counter and reached to what Danny assumed was a switch to allow him entry. Sure enough, he heard the buzz and click and he was able to open the door and enter.

"You, uh, don't make it too inviting to new customers," Danny said as he twisted back toward the door and gestured with his open hand.

"Bad area of town, brah. Can't be too careful. This way I can be in charge of who's coming and going."

"Uh huh, I see. Guess I made the non-riffraff list and you mean 'who's coming', right?"

"Sure, right… right," the man answered awkwardly.

"Detective Danny Williams with Five-0."

The young man's eyes shot to Danny's badge and gun. "What can I help you with?"

Danny sensed the man's nervousness. "Yeah, I heard you're renting a unit to a Huston Barrister? I need to find out when he contracted with you. You got those records?"

"Yeah, okay, let me go check in my files. I'll be right back."

"Hey, you okay?" Danny asked. The clerk stopped and turned to Danny before opening the door behind the counter that led to another unseen room.

"I'm fine, officer."

"Detective," Danny corrected.

"Sorry… Detective. S'all good."

"I may need to get into the unit also," Danny said as an afterthought.

The man smiled insincerely and nodded as he disappeared through the door.

Danny displayed a curious but accepting frown as he took note of the unused computer sitting on the counter. He leaned against the counter with one arm resting on top as he turned to study his surroundings while he waited. He noticed the security camera hanging from the ceiling in the far corner behind him and thought whoever had put it there wasn't that wise as it would get a great shot of the _back_ of a person's head. He smirked directly at the camera and fluttered his fingers as a condescending wave to whoever may ever see the footage. He then looked through the door's window thinking he may see Steve approaching after finishing his call, but he wasn't there, and he couldn't see his car from where the office was positioned.

He looked back to the door that the worker had just gone into wondering what was taking so long and then noticed a large filing cabinet sitting in the corner to the right of the door that would be a perfect place to keep business records. _That's odd._ After a few restless taps to the top of the counter, he began to pace. His impatience turned into an uneasy feeling.

Danny had just made up his mind to follow the clerk into the other room when he heard and saw that door open. He expected to see the man come in with the records he requested but instead a small cylindrical metal cannister flew through the air and fell to the floor in front of him. It immediately started making a hissing sound followed by a visible emission of a cloud of some kind of gas.

"What the hell." Danny put the crook of his arm over his face and ran behind the counter to the door that had just slammed closed. It was locked. A few rams of his shoulder into the door got him nowhere. "Hey!" He began coughing. "Hey!" *cough* "Open up!" *cough*cough* It became clear his attempt at preventing the inhalation of the toxin was pointless and he dropped his arm to aid in his escape. He instinctively made his way back to the office's entry door. He found it to be locked as well. His lungs and throat began to burn and he could no longer control his coughing fit. His vision became blurry, made even worse by the cloud of gas that filled the room.

He pulled his gun and tried shooting the lock, knowing the window would not be an option with the crisscrossed reinforcement blocking the way. The sting of the ricochet was barely noticeable as his most necessary goal was to get fresh air into his lungs. The door wouldn't budge. The shot was either unsuccessful, or he had missed it completely in the less-than-ideal conditions. He decided against another attempt.

The room was almost fully inundated with the gas when he recalled the switch. He managed to get back behind the counter and began to feel for the button since he could no longer see through the combination of the haze in the air and his blurred vision. Just as the debilitating effects of the gas were about to take him out, his hand found the switch.

He rounded the corner of the counter but dropped to one knee as the coughing turned into a wheezing and gasping for air. His eyes were watering and his attempt to yell out to Steve or _anyone_ that may hear him died in his throat. One last attempt to stand, or even crawl, to his escape failed and he hit the floor just feet from the door. The buzz and click of the door unlocking was the last thing he heard as he remembered, he's 'in charge of who's going'.

~~~~~H50~~~~~

For several minutes, Steve drove, taking each on-ramp and exit, making each turn as instructed. He maintained a tight grip on the steering wheel to focus his energy into something that _shouldn't_ get him in trouble. A vague, indistinct fury smoldered beneath the surface of the leader of the Five-0 task force. He was responsible for his team and right now he had no idea of the status of his second in command, his partner, but more than that, his best friend. He knew what he had been told, but without confirmation, he would not accept it. Still, the obscure emotional conflict between hope and doubt waged on.

He didn't want his increasingly audible, deep nasal breaths to be taken as a threat, so he consciously switched to the more controllable, quieter alternative of breathing through his open mouth.

He had tamped down the urge three times before but couldn't resist on the fourth impulse. "So, are you going to tell me, or what?" He lifted his fingers inquisitively, maintaining control of the wheel with the heel and sides of his hands. The unexpected movement brought another quick reaction from the still unidentified, disapproving man.

"Hands on the wheel!"

"'kay. Everything's cool, man." Steve regained control with a tight grip.

"Tell you what?"

"What's going on here? Who you are? Where're we going?"

"Not yet."

"Okay." Steve accepted the answer for now with a slight nod. The 'yet' implied an answer would be forthcoming. So, he'd bide his time and wait.

As they pulled up to the docks, two sleek black sedans were awaiting their arrival. Two men casually stepped out of one of the cars. One was seen rebuttoning his suit jacket. The other joined him on the same side of the car, opened the rear door, and removed a small pistol from a shoulder holster. He crossed his empty hand over the wrist of the hand holding the gun, pointing it toward the ground as they waited.

Steve slowed and stopped the Camaro. Without bothering to look over to his passenger, he mulishly tilted his head to the side to receive the next instruction.

"Turn it off, leave the keys, and get out… carefully."

Steve didn't hesitate. In fact, what he wanted to do was get out of the car and possibly get a chance at taking these guys out. Breaking each neck, one at a time, was not an unpleasant thought. He closed the car door and analyzed the situation. There were two other men sitting in the other black car, facing in their direction. The windows of both cars were darkened with a deep tint and Steve couldn't tell much about them except that they were wearing sunglasses and dark suits.

Two inside a car, two standing outside a car, and his passenger… five total… not great, but doable, given the right opportunity. His eyes scanned the area, at the shipping containers and moving equipment, and found it odd that at this time of day, in the middle of a work week, there were seemingly no other souls around.

"Alright, guys, now what?"

One of the two men that waited outside of the car walked behind Steve as he earnestly searched for his own offensive opportunity. The man that had accompanied and directed him to this deserted location, sensed the desperate itch emanating from Steve and prominently presented his weapon as a 'stand down' reminder. Steve felt his hands being pulled behind him and held as a cable tie was tightened around his wrists. His 'right opportunity' didn't evolve.

The same man that bound his hands, gently touched the back of his shoulder, urging him forward to the open door and back seat of one of the sedans. "Get in."

He did and 'Pacino' took up the same position beside him as before, as the other two got in the front. The car pulled away and Steve could see the other car move to follow. Steve watched as they passed the abandoned Camaro and left the shipping docks.

* * *

 _~to be continued~_

\,,,/


	3. Chapter 3

They had not tried to conceal their destination. Steve knew very well where they were. After turning off the main road and waiting for passage through a secure gate, the cars followed a long meandering driveway to a palatial, tropical hideaway. He recognized the place as a location the Five-0 team had had dealings with in prior investigations.

This was a secluded luxury estate known to be rented by only the wealthiest of sojourners. The place was even out of the league of most celebrities. A few top-tier sports stars and Hollywood A-listers had been able to pay the thousands per night rate for short stays, but the place was more likely occupied by billionaire business moguls for longer periods of time, seeking respite from their stressful lives. The seclusion, beauty, and tropical weather wrapped into this one extravagant getaway fit the bill.

The large man that had assisted Steve into the car, tightly grabbed his arm and pulled him out. 'Pacino' led the way. He walked determinedly into the estate, followed by Steve and his escort, and the driver took up the rear. Steve noted the two in the other car remained outside.

He was physically guided the whole way. As they walked through the grand gathering area, Steve couldn't help himself, "You guys do know you're in Hawaii? Right?"

There was no response. The four casually strolled past the dining room and a wall of windows capturing the view of the ocean like a painted masterpiece on display in a museum.

"I mean most people don't wear ties," he paused and conceded a reflective expression as he bobbed his head from side to side as he remembered one such enigma, "much less expensive Italian three pieces while in paradise." Again, there was no response.

They passed through the kitchen and went down a few steps to an atrium. The same wall of windows followed along this room that housed an indoor swimming pool. 'Pacino' opened a door that was to their left, immediately off the natatorium, and descended down a staircase into a basement. The width of the staircase was such that the man handling Steve had to let go of the hold on his arm and urge him on ahead of him. The stairs led to a corridor, but 'Pacino' opened the first door on his left and stepped out of the way to allow the three other men to enter.

Steve found himself in an opulent home theater. The room was darkened except for recessed lighting in the dark gray ceiling and sconces sending rays of light above and below on the slightly lighter gray walls. Steve was maneuvered in front of the first row of seats.

"Have a seat."

Steve continued to stand and study his surroundings, making note of the large screen at the front of the room, the three ascending rows of comfortable looking reclining chairs, the wet bar at the top tier behind the seating, with a fully stocked cabinet behind that against the back wall, and finally, each door giving entrance into the room.

"I _said_ … have a seat." The man didn't wait for Steve to comply and pushed him into the seat.

Both men then took up a spot on either side of the door they had just entered, standing like sentries waiting for their next order. Steve did not know where 'Pacino' had vanished to. He had remained in the corridor and had not followed them inside.

Steve disregarded the comfort of the seating and shifted to sitting at the edge of his chair, all the while absorbing his surroundings and likewise, his predicament. What was probably only a matter of minutes felt much longer. A swell of restlessness made its way to the surface. He licked his lips and his knee started to bounce. He began to rotate in his seat to see the area behind him better. Finally, when he could take it no longer, he stood.

Steve's appointed personal escort stepped forward and stood right in front of him.

Since this man was the one offering himself up, Steve went with it. "I want to know what the _hell_ I'm doing here! And I want to know the status of Detective Danny Williams!" Even in his compromised state, Steve glared at the man, never letting his eyes deviate from the other man's, capably communicating his own warning without any further words. As stare downs go, the goon was a formidable opponent and did not back down.

"Tony! It's fine. I've got this now." The decrescendo of the calming voice came from a new player to the twisted game. He spoke as he came down the steps from the back of the room. 'Pacino' followed and closed the door behind him. "Go on, son," he augmented his appeal, "make some room, eh?" The man had to reach up a bit to lay his hand on Tony's shoulder to assure him.

Tony didn't seem to want to stand down and hesitated, but at the protracted touch of his boss, he relented and backed away. Not wanting to fully give in though, the eye contact with Steve held until this new person stepped between them and into Steve's line of vision.

"Steve McGarrett? … Commander… McGarrett?"

The man sighed loudly at Steve's lack of response. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and fingers and appeared to be thinking for a few moments. "Yeah, uh, sorry about that." He removed his hand from his head and gestured toward Tony. "He's just a little anxious, if you know what I mean. Please, have a seat." Now his gesture was toward the recliner behind Steve.

"I think I'll stand."

"Alright, then. Suit yourself." The man didn't try to compel him this time.

Steve's eyes shifted around the room nonchalantly then came back to land on the man in front of him. "I don't think you brought me here to watch a movie." Steve lifted his chin toward the screen. "What is this? Would _somebody_ _please_ tell me what the hell this is all about?"

The wrinkled and pitted complexion of the unnaturally dark-haired man betrayed his true age. The man huffed. "Well you're right, no flick today. This windowless, basement beauty is as close to a dungeon as this remarkable place has to offer. Pretty nice, huh?" He looked around the room with a spurious pride even though Steve knew he didn't own it.

Steve didn't acknowledge the word that was obviously meant to be intimidating. "And you are?"

"The name is Leone. Gino Leone."

Steve's forehead wrinkled in thought, then the relaxation of his expression and slight involuntary twitch of one of his eyes _almost_ went unnoticed.

Leone smiled. "Oh, you know who I am." He was sure he had seen a glint of recognition.

A flood of awareness almost made Steve sway _. Laney… Leone. Son of a bitch._

"I've been trying to reach Bruce Cassano. I think you know him as Leonard, or is it Uncle Leonard now?"

Steve offered up a silent prayer of gratitude that he'd been able to contact Chin about putting protection on Mary and Deb. "You're not going to find him. He died of cancer two months ago."

The look in Leone's eyes told him he truly didn't know. Steve could see the wheels turning as he processed the new information. "That's right." Steve fed the off-guard reaction by reinforcing his last statement in case there was any doubt. He could see the dissatisfaction in the man's expression.

"Oh… well then, that's… too bad. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Steve sensed a masked vulnerability in his stammered words. "You seem to know everything else about him. Why didn't you know he had passed?"

"We had lost touch. He had stepped back from the business and I haven't needed him, until now that is."

"Why were you looking for Leonard?"

"I am in need of his services again. He's… was, _was_ the best, you know. And," he tipped his head to the side as he rolled his eyes upward in concession, "I think he knows… _knew_ the whereabouts of something of mine. And I'm needing that something back." Leone's focus fell back on Steve.

The statement was a significant but troubling piece of this confounding puzzle that Steve was putting together in his head. He had not had a lot of interaction with Leonard Cassano prior to, and even after, the wedding uniting him to Steve's Aunt Deb. His time on earth had been limited by the contemptible disease and Steve had just checked in every now and then so Deb and Leonard could live their lives to the fullest and enjoy the last months while they could.

Even with his questionable past as a lawyer who defended participants in organized crime, Steve had come to accept the man as decent, respectable, and worthy to marry his beloved aunt after the man-to-man talk they had had. But it was also during that talk that Leonard had attempted to mollify Steve's apprehension and win his approval by handing over a mysterious box and the idiomatic weight that came with it. The weight had now been transferred squarely onto Steve's shoulders to decide what to do with the package of unknown contents. A package that could potentially hold key evidence, namely a murder weapon, against the Leone family in New York. To protect Leonard, but mostly to ensure Deb's happiness, Steve had decided to store the box temporarily and 'forget' about it for a period of time that would coincidently mirror the approximate span of time that Leonard had left.

It had actually been just last week, when he found out that his close friend, Ellie Clayton, was going to be taking a business trip to New York, that he had asked if she would be willing to take the package to the New York District Attorney while she was there. She had been more than willing to help and agreed, still perplexed over what the package contained, but she didn't ask. After Steve had gotten caught up in the Barrister case, she had volunteered to pick up the package from the safe deposit box.

 _When was she leaving? Had she picked it up yet?_

Steve carefully waded into the mire, "So, what did he have?"

"I didn't say he had it. I said he knew of its whereabouts." The calm, slow speech matched Steve's, as if in a move-for-move chess game.

"Okay. The 'whereabouts', of what?"

"He had, at one time, had in his possession a small box."

There it was. Steve felt his lungs working harder for its next breath.

Leone continued, "There was a fella back in the city, named Ochoa. They're trying to pin his death on me."

Steve knew about Andre Ochoa, the Leone brothers, and how Gino had escaped indictment due to lack of evidence. Jerry had researched and filled him in on the intricate details months ago when he was digging into Leonard's past, before he married Deb.

Steve decided he was going to show his hand. "I thought they didn't have any evidence to hold you, Gino."

Leone once again smiled. "I'm not surprised you know about this. They didn't until recently. Something else came up and they are on the warpath again. That little package could contain the smoking gun." He stopped and laughed, amused with himself over the double entendre. "I'm needing it back and I think you can help me."

"Me? Why me?" _Now_ , Steve tried, but did a very bad job, to play ignorant.

"Well, my information tells me that Bruce may have entrusted this box to you instead of following directions and destroying it like he was instructed to do. Is that a possibility, Commander?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." Steve slowly shook his head as he spoke, not taking his eyes off the man in front of him.

Leone thought he'd love to sit across from Steve at a poker table, if things were different, and if the Commander had the stakes to put in, not some measly cop salary, of course. Steve was a bad actor. He could see the knowledge of this package written all over his face.

"Please, let's not play games and waste your time and mine. Just let me know where it is, eh?"

Steve pressed his lips together as if trying to think real hard about it but ultimately shook his head innocently. "Mm, mm. I don't know."

Leone dropped his head. "Okay. If you're sure. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way. Lucky, let's go."

 _So that's 'Pacino's' real name._

He turned and abruptly walked toward the lower door.

"'ey!" Steve yelled out.

Leone paused and turned back to see if he had decided to cooperate. He had not.

"What do you know about Detective Williams?"

"Detective Williams?"

"My partner. There was a gunshot."

"Gunshot?"

Steve narrowed his eyes in a gaze at Lucky, remembering their interaction in the car, then played along by addressing the disingenuous question. "Back at the storage facility."

Leone grabbed his chin as though he were thinking then shook his head. "Not sure what you're talking about." The follow-up grin that crossed his face let Steve know he was purposefully trying to be mendacious.

"Hey! Hey! Come back here!" Steve just stared off after him as he watched Leone leave and Lucky follow. The two goons continued their steadfast watch beside the door.

* * *

 _~to be continued~_

\,,,/


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that is a proper noun. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **A/N:** A short chapter to check in on Danny...

* * *

Darkness welcomed darkness as the first thing Danny was able to discern was that, now awake, even with his eyes open, he still couldn't see anything. The moment of calm between awakening and realization was all too soon interrupted by another bout of coughing. In fact, he believed it was the unrelenting irritation in his lungs that must have prompted him to wake up. When the coughs started and he naturally went to cover his mouth, he discovered his hands were strapped together. The insufficient amount of rest before this latest spell started, barely gave him a chance to attempt to make sense of his situation.

As the coughing calmed and eventually got under control, he was finally able to assess his quandary past the darkness and restraints. He first noticed a lingering chemical taste in his mouth. The follow up swallow didn't help and made him realize how dry and irritated his throat was. The burning sensation in his throat and lungs was dulled only by taking short, shallow breaths. He made the decision to continue to lie on his side and not move to make sure the coughing spasm was over and that he could breathe somewhat normally again.

By taking several minutes to be sure he would not start coughing again, a latent aggravation grew into anger. He mentally dubbed the responsible culprit a spineless, punk, coward that he'd love to get his hands on and planned on having that opportunity in the near future. The irritation fueled his anxiety and he couldn't remain still any longer. He slowly climbed to standing. The movement ignited a burning in one of his arms and he recalled the ricochet, for the first time realizing he had been hit by his own bullet. The pain was manageable and he felt it was probably just a superficial crease so he quickly dismissed it as innocuous. He had more troubling things to occupy his thoughts.

He checked his pockets for what he knew wouldn't be there and smiled when he wondered that if he did have his phone, would his first call be to order pizza? He was hungry. The absurdity piled on when he actually took another minute to think that he didn't know an address for delivery anyway. A shake of the head stopped that path of foolishness but not the timely growl in his stomach.

The absence of all light was daunting and he couldn't help but briefly consider the possibility of blindness, until an unpleasant childhood memory came to mind of faking sickness to avoid a field trip to tour a coal mine in New Jersey. A friend had excitedly recounted the details of a previous family trip. He had told of the narrow shafts and manmade rooms and of how when the tour guides would turn out the lights in one of the shafts, you could not see your own hand in front of your face. The idea of being in such a confined space is what caused him to concoct his plan to skip the trip. He had thought he had gotten away with the scheme, but later realized his mom, like all omniscient moms, knew the whole time, and his ingenuity wasn't as ingenious as he thought.

The reverberation of the coughs and wheeze in his labored breathing had been the only thing giving him his first clue as to the size of the room. Holding his bound hands out in front of him ( _yep, he couldn't see them_ ), he carefully took shuffled steps, seeking out a door or wall. To his dismay, although not unexpected, his hands all too quickly found a wall. He felt a slight increase in his heartbeat and inhaling seemed a bit more difficult.

He followed that wall to a corner, and then to the next corner, and the next, coming to the conclusion the room, or more like it, box he was in, was approximately 12 feet wide by 10 feet deep. _Not ideal, but manageable._

"Awesome. Well, that's just fantastic," he spoke aloud as felt another spike of anger.

The surface of the walls felt as though they were constructed of a sturdy horizontal, corrugated metal sheeting. He had also found the door, but it wasn't an ordinary door. It was a large roll up door. There were two handles, both low to the ground, one right above the other, and besides a slight wiggle when he tried to pull, it didn't budge.

 _Storage unit._ He was certain of it. The hollow echo of his breathing made him believe it was an empty unit but he felt around in the dark to make sure. After confirming his suspicions, he decided to make some noise. He banged his hands against the metal door.

"Hey! Anyone out there?! Hey!"

He stopped and was very quiet to listen and see if he heard any footsteps, talking, or anything. _Nothing… nothing except his heartbeat… the damned, unusually loud heartbeat._ As he felt sweat bead on his forehead and a rivulet roll down his back, he decided he needed to regroup and center himself. He backed up against the wall farthest from the door and slid down, sitting on the floor with his arms resting on his bent knees.

He was actually glad for the dark. As long as he didn't let his imagination take control, his inability to see the size of the room helped to calm him. He didn't see the walls closing in on him. Even though the perceived size of the room was manageable with his claustrophobia, being trapped added another layer that would make it more difficult. He started then abandoned his '86 Mets therapy when he found the darkness and a healthy dose of Grace thoughts were enough for now.

Now that he had scrutinized his situation and gotten his thorn-in-the-side at least under partial control, well at least one of them, he could concentrate on what got him into this mess. He wondered how long he had been out and then his mind went to his other thorn-in-the-side, Steve. _What had happened to him?_ Surely, he had come looking for him. His contemplations took him in several directions but he chose to assume he was looking for him, maybe even irritated that he'd gone missing and laying a little of the blame on him. But then he thought of the shot he had fired, from his own gun, at the door in his attempted escape. Wouldn't he have heard that and come running in Rambo style? The niggling thought of Steve being in the same predicament or worse came to mind. He had to fight his natural pessimistic instinct and just keep assuming the best.

Long minutes led to long hours. He was pretty sure he had dozed when he felt his head jerk up. As he continued to sit, the dark nothingness of the far side of the room began to have a dull essence of light crawl under the bottom of the door. _So, he wasn't blind._ The hint grew in brightness to an out-and-out sliver of light. _Daylight. Sunrise._ There must have been a window outside the walls of the unit to allow this seepage of light.

His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, so with the scant bit of added light, he was able to begin to see the outline of his current living quarters. He again felt his breathing quicken with his heart rate. He had been right about the type and size of his accommodations and seeing the four walls, without an exit was dismaying. He closed his eyes to put him back into the darkness and that helped for a while but his inquisitive nature couldn't stand it so he opened his eyes and allowed the light to help him to see. He was looking around, seeing the cold, emptiness of the room when he happened to see a tiny red light blink in a corner at the top of the room. _That light had not been there before._

And footsteps… had he heard footsteps? _Yes_. The clicking of the padlock had confirmed it. He scooted up the wall to standing. He squinted and had to cover his eyes as best as he could with his arm as the flood of morning light from the large windows in the hallway assaulted him. It would take a minute to see who was there.

* * *

 _~to be continued~_

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Got both of our boys in this one. Invoking my writer's artistic license on the medical stuff… fye only. Thanks for follows and favorites. Reviews are fuel for a weary mind. Love y'all.

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Steve had had all night to think about what 'the hard way' meant. He could think of very little that most considered 'hard' that he hadn't been through. He'd been deployed on multiple tours, had been shot, tortured, stabbed, beaten, even had his heart broken in two. Almost anything hard had already been thrown at him and he had made it through. However, probably the hardest thing was… His mind didn't want to revisit the devastation and utter helplessness he had to suffer when he heard the gunshot. His father had been taken from him in a senseless act of greed and cowardice. That had cut him to the core. He had experienced a similar type of feeling when he thought he had lost his mother, but that time he had thought it to be an accident and he was younger and processed things through an unjaded, youthful mind. When his dad was taken from him, it was deliberate, born out of evil and hate. It had forever left an indelible impression and affected whom he had become.

They didn't know. These lowlifes didn't know his Achilles heel. They didn't know that the thing that made him most vulnerable was the people closest to him. They just weren't geared that way. They would try to hurt _him_ , probably with a beating, if he was gauging his guards correctly. Trying vises like drugs, food deprivation, water deprivation, or sleep deprivation were all too elegant for these guys and would take too much time for their liking, but he'd endure if they tried. They may threaten him with a mafioso's typical weapon of choice, perhaps a .22 pistol, or possibly some other mobsteresque divining tool. That would be 'hard', as far as _they_ were concerned, but he knew he could withstand anything they threw at him, anything except…

He trusted that Mary and little Joannie were safe. Chin would take care of that, especially now that Steve had gone missing too. Deb was at an unknown location, but Chin would have found her by now and she would be safe. He knew he could trust Chin. His mother… his mother would be out roaming the globe as an active CIA agent and if _he_ couldn't find her, these imbeciles couldn't either. Catherine was ostensibly 'safe' in Afghanistan. He doubted they would even know of any other friendships and personal relationships, his mind briefly allowing a flicker of concern for the current caretaker of the box, Ellie. His disappearance would have put his team on alert and they could take care of themselves as they searched for him. The unknown variable… Danny. He had been with him, or at least in the vicinity, when this fiasco went down. The thing that kept hounding him was the gunshot… another gunshot… and Lucky's follow-up comment. That uncertainty wouldn't let him go.

He wondered about the delay. _What were they waiting for?_

The longer they left him alone, the more time they had to…

 _Let's get on with this, guys. Let the fun begin._

They had left him in the basement theater. The guards had taken breaks and changed shifts and he managed the wait by switching between pacing and sitting. They had allowed him to walk and move around, maybe to keep his pent-up anger at bay, maybe they thought he would wear himself out. Either way, his hands were still behind his back and even though he was certain he could find a way out of his bonds, he was also pretty sure it wouldn't be before one of the goons used his gun on him. So, he sat and walked and thought. He did feel somewhat fatigued after the unknown number of long hours.

It was during one of those times that he was making use of one of the recliners, purposefully fighting off the weariness in his brain and the irritating twinges of worry by considering his options, when the big screen lit up.

Steve immediately stood with a renewed energy. There it was… confirmation. Danny was alive… he believed. It took a moment to see the rise and fall of his chest, but he could finally see he was breathing. Relief set in. However, his second biggest worry had also come to fruition. They were going to use someone he cared about against him.

From what he could tell, Danny had gotten the beating that should have been his. He was bruised and bleeding and unconscious, lying on a concrete floor... in a tiny room. Maybe _that_ had not been purposeful, but he still felt an empathetic discomfort for his partner.

Danny hadn't had a chance at defending himself as his hands were bound. Even though there was blood, he did not see evidence of a traumatic gunshot wound… one thing to be thankful for.

He was so mesmerized by what he was seeing, he didn't notice Leone enter.

"Didn't want to have to do that." Leone made his presence known.

Now Steve looked over to see Leone taking a seat.

"You didn't give me a choice," he continued as he threw his hand in the screen's direction and then complacently rested the side of his face against the back of his fingers.

"You, son of a bitch."

"He claimed he didn't know about my box either… tough guy. So, do _you_ have any more information for me?"

With another glance at the screen, not knowing if this was a live feed or a video, he muttered, "He _doesn't_ know anything. You need to let him go."

"But you do. Don't you, Commander?"

There was a hesitation that didn't go unnoticed but Steve replied, "No. You're mistaken. I don't know about your package." He tried to hold his ground and then change the subject. "Where is he? I want to see him."

"He's not here. So, don't be getting any ideas. What do you think? Do you think he can go another round?"

Steve again looked back to the screen at the battered, crumpled form of his unconscious partner. His heartstrings were being pulled, manipulated by an evil puppeteer. At the same time, his anger swelled with his desire to remove this man's existence from the planet. If he tells the man where the box is, it puts another of his loved ones in jeopardy. He knew Ellie to be a strong, independent woman that can take care of herself. He'd witnessed it firsthand. But this was different. These people had no conscience and would do what they had to at all cost. He felt like he was being squeezed from two sides.

A suited figure stepped into frame on the screen. Steve watched helplessly as the large man pulled Danny up to sitting by the front of his shirt.

"Hey," Steve muttered first to himself. "Hey!"

While maintaining a hold of the shirt with his right hand, the man punched the unconscious Danny on his right jaw sending his head to the side like a whip. A previously dried stream of blood began to trickle from the side of his mouth. Then the man pulled back for his next blow.

"Don't!" Steve yelled out, but it was too late as the man expertly landed his next hit, again square on the jaw. Then he did it a third time for good measure and dropped Danny back to the ground before taking a few steps back.

Steve watched in horror as his best friend was harshly treated, but he was rewarded when he saw the first movement out of his partner. With his eyes still closed, his head tentatively fell to the side for a few seconds and then up again, coming to a rest in stillness.

Steve didn't see Leone motion toward Lucky who tapped something onto his phone. The man on the screen moved forward and reached down for Danny's shirt again. This time, he was met with Danny grabbing his attacker's wrist with his two bound hands and twisting as he moved his feet through the man's shins to take him off his center of gravity. The man yelled out an expletive as he landed with a thud on the ground next to Danny, grabbing the back of his head where he had landed.

Steve's heartrate quickened with adrenaline, seeing his friend put up a fight. The sense of pride and reluctant hopefulness was short lived as he saw another man step into the picture, straddle Danny's legs and hit him on his left jaw, sending him rolling onto his right side. While on his side that attacker gave a severe kick to his abdomen, causing Danny to shrink up into a ball in pain.

From that angle Steve could now see the jagged tear in the sleeve and flesh where it appeared a bullet had done some damage. The stain was dark though, and he thought the bleeding had clotted.

"That's enough," Leone calmly communicated to Lucky who once again sent a message through his phone. "Anything? … Commander?"

"I… I don't know anything about a package," Steve stubbornly held out.

Disappointment shined on Leone's face as he finally stood to look Steve in the eye. He let out a long, agonized sigh. "Alright. I'm a fair guy. I'll tell you what. Maybe, given the new parameters, you just need a little time to think. What say I leave for a bit and when I get back… maybe you'll have a different answer. And I'll even throw in a bonus. How 'bout if I promise that we won't hurt him anymore during your thinking time. That way, you can concentrate on your answer." He was almost out the door when he turned, briefly putting his fingers on his forehead before laying his hand out in front of him. "Oh, you know, the minute I believe your story, is the minute I don't need you or your partner anymore. So… if you, ah, want to keep up this charade, go right ahead. It won't have a good ending for either of you."

Steve was glad he left. He was glad he had been given more time to consider his options. And he was especially glad Danny would have a much-needed respite, if Leone kept his word.

Leone was right. If by some miracle, he bought Steve's story, he and Danny would be short timers for sure. On the other side, if he gave in, Ellie would be in grave danger. He couldn't give in. Another option would have to present itself.

Not even an hour went by, when Leone reappeared. He had doffed the business suit, in favor of a swimsuit. He was dripping wet, obviously just out of the water, still wiping his head and hair with the white towel that hung around his shoulders. "Okay, Commander, let's have it. I need to know where or in whose possession the package is in."

He continued to dry himself as he would intermittently check on Steve's reaction. Leaning forward in his seat, Steve's only response was to hang his head and reluctantly refuse to answer.

A phone buzzed and one of the guards reached it to his boss just as he got his second arm into a robe. "This is Gino. … What about the sister? … Um, hm. Okay, just do what you can. Keep me up to date. … Yeah, see ya."

At hearing 'what about the sister', Steve turned back toward his captor, feeling a new invigorated burning sensation inside.

"Sorry about the interruption. You inspired me. I thought I'd give you another treat. Just call me generous." Two men entered the room, creating a border of muscle behind Leone. They stepped around their boss and Steve saw that they had Danny, mostly held up between them by their grips under his arms. They pushed him forward, letting gravity take him the rest of the way to the ground.

"Danny!" Steve called out.

"I lived up to my bargain. We didn't hurt him anymore. This is all from before."

Sure enough, Danny was awake and rolled from his side to his back. "You've got to be kidding me," Danny muttered when he saw Steve fall to his knees beside him.

"Danny? Danny, are you okay?" Steve was frustrated he couldn't reach out to touch his partner and see how badly he was injured.

Steve had given him the perfect opportunity for a sarcastic reply about his wellbeing but instead Danny went with, "I should have known you'd be involved in this mess. … Damn it, Steven, what have you gotten us into now?"

The slow, croakiness in his voice didn't sound like Danny's regular voice but his words did and Steve smiled at him for it.

"So, this is funny, now?"

"Just glad to see ya, buddy," Steve admitted his relief.

"Guess I'm glad to see you too. So, what's the plan? You _do_ have a plan… right?"

"Well not quite yet… but, I'm getting there."

"What do they want? Some box?" Danny was a bit more serious as he genuinely wanted to know.

"They think I know about a box of theirs. They think Leonard gave it to me." Steve knew Danny was aware of the box but wanted to continue his pretense for those in earshot.

Danny's eyes popped open wide when he heard Leonard's name, but Steve's back shielded their expressions from the ones in the room. "A box?" Danny said aloud then mouthed with the slightest whisper for only Steve's ears, " _The_ box?"

" _The_ box." Steve's reply copied Danny's in tone and hoped Danny was good at lip reading.

" _That_ box?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yes, _that_ box."

" _Oh, makes sense now_." He mouthed.

" _Ellie's got it_ ," was Steve's silent explanation.

Then Danny spoke up, "Well, you told them you knew nothing about their box. Right?"

"I did, but they don't believe me."

"Ok, lovebirds, I'll tell you what…" Leone grabbed a pistol from one of his men and stepped over to the other side of where Danny lay, facing Steve. He positioned the muzzle directly under Danny's collar bone. "…you know, if a person gets shot… right about here… and it makes it through to the other side, it really doesn't cause that much damage. But if the bullet goes a little too far to the left or down, it could be fatal quickly. There are some arteries that are in a very precarious position in that area. Shall we try it out and see?"

Leone didn't wait for an answer to his rhetorical question. He pulled the trigger, firing a bullet at pointblank range into Danny's shoulder area.

"NO!" Steve lunged head first across his partner, aiming for the man. He could hear Danny scream out in pain and then there was quiet, intermittent moaning. Two of the guards had successfully grabbed Steve from behind to thwart his doomed attack and pushed him into one of the seats and held him there. Steve struggled against their hold but couldn't take his eyes off his partner. "Danny?"

Leone recovered from Steve's attempted attack and took up his previous position but this time at Danny's _other_ shoulder. The feel of the gun being pressed roughly against the other side caused Danny to moan in pain and shudder with unwanted anticipation.

"Alright! Alright. Stop. I'll give you what you want."

"Steve," Danny managed to get out his obvious objection.

"Well, that's more like it." Leone pulled the gun off of Danny's shoulder and let it dangle there at the ready. "Go on."

"Steve, no…" Danny implored.

Another ignored mumble from his friend didn't dissuade him. "The box… it's in a safe deposit vault… Navy FCU at Pearl Harbor," Steve's tone was dejected as he spoke. "I'd have to go get it. It's in my name."

"Field trip! Boys, who wants to go out for a while? See some tropical scenery? I just gotta get changed. Take care of that, would ya?" Speaking to one of his men and tossing his chin in Danny's direction. "Be gentle. We could still need him."

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 _~to be continued~_

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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** : I don't own anything that is a proper noun. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **A/N:** So sorry this posting was delayed. I am finally getting back to it. Thanks for the favs and follows and a special thank you to Rijriz, grannyv3, Elise Deschat, stefrosacarnevale, Irene Claire, Sabine68, Tracey450, Empress Akitla, Phoebe Miller, rewob17, Kiwikaren, Long Live BRUCAS, Cubit2, and guest reviewer. You make me smile. :-)

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He didn't know if it was regret or uncertainty that was bugging him. There were so many ways this could go wrong. He had started down this road, though, and he'd have to follow it through.

Steve was escorted by Lucky into the credit union. The threat they had made to keep him in line loomed within. Lucky had a direct link with one of the men back at the mansion. Danny's life would be the price paid if anything untoward happened. They had made sure Steve thoroughly understood that.

They had barely gotten a few steps in the building when Steve was met face to face with a former commanding officer.

"Steve? Steve McGarrett? Well how the hell you doing, son? It's been a long time." The older man shook Steve's hand as he slapped him on his upper arm.

"Captain, good to see you. Yes, sir, it has been a while. Captain Sutter, this is my… friend…"

"John," Lucky chimed in. "John Simmons. Nice to meet you." He, too, took the Captain's hand in a pleasant greeting.

Turning his attention back to Steve, the Captain continued, "I see you on the news now and again. Sounds like you're staying busy in the civilian world. Proud of ya."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He wanted to tell him, give him a clue, a sign, but he couldn't. "Um, I'm in a little bit of a hurry." He sheepishly scratched his head and used his hand to point to the tellers.

"Oh, of course. Say, are you alright? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine."

"Guess you just need to get out in the sun a bit more. Hey, why don't you look me up sometime? We'll go have a drink."

"Yes, sir. That sounds good. I'll… I'll do that."

"Good, good. Well, take it easy. Good to meet you Mr. Simmons."

Lucky gave the man a smile as he watched him exit, then he turned back to Steve. "Good job, now let's go."

As they approached the vault doors where the safe deposit boxes were stored, a man was finishing at the teller's counter and turned to head back to his office.

"Excuse me, I'm needing to get into my box," Steve addressed the man. "Can you help me with that?"

Not too keen on being interrupted, he answered, "Here, let me see if I can get someone to help you. If you'll wait right here…"

Lucky gave Steve a nudge.

"Uh, look, we're short on time. We really don't have an extra minute," Steve strongly encouraged.

The man looked around and didn't see anyone free at the moment so he begrudgingly conceded. "Please, gentlemen, follow me."

They made their way to the table outside the vault door. "So, what's the number? And I'll need your ID."

Steve handed over his ID and pulled his keys from his pocket. He found the right one as he read off the number. "Thirteen twenty-two."

"Thirteen twenty-two," the man repeated as he wrote it on the ledger and signed his name. "Thirteen twenty-two. Oh, yeah, I thought that sounded familiar." He turned the form to Steve, pointing at the spot for him to sign. "Popular box. A little lady came in the other day for that same one." Steve felt a rush of lightheadedness with the broadcast of information. If he had looked pale before, he was sure he had the pallor of a ghost now.

Lucky spoke up. "Is that right?" he singsonged as he glanced to Steve. He then positioned himself beside Steve so he could see the ledger. As Steve signed, he tried to casually cover the names above his with his other hand, but Lucky boldly grabbed his arm and pulled it away. He followed the box number column up a few lines until he saw the same number, and then over to… Ellie Clayton.

The enlivened bank manager eagerly shared his experience. "Quite a looker, if you know what I mean. Well," he chuckled, "stupid me, I guess you know her… if you're sharing a box and all. No offense." The manager adjusted his ignoble facial expression and backtracked from his awkward statement. He glanced to Steve's left hand to check for a ring and was met with a modicum of relief at not seeing one.

Steve immediately moved the man to the top of the McGarrett make-his-life-difficult list. He'd revisit that later. They had gotten to the box and both keys were inserted. The manager didn't bother to ask about a room or privacy. Even though he wasn't positive, he felt what Lucky had concluded, they'd find nothing in the safe deposit box. Neither was wrong.

Steve now knew the box would be empty. He had been hoping that Ellie hadn't been there yet, that his perceived timing was wrong. And if not that, he was hoping to bide his time and figure a way out. He had not anticipated them finding out about the package being recently picked up and _especially_ did not count on them getting Ellie's name. There was nothing for him to say at this point. He could have played dumb once again if the brainless manager had kept his busybody mouth shut, but now he was caught and there was nothing to say.

Lucky checked for himself to make sure and at finding nothing in the safe deposit box, made his apologies to the manager for wasting his time.

~~~~~H50~~~~~

Steve stumbled forward when he was pushed through the door of the now familiar basement room. He steadied himself by grabbing the back of the nearest chair. His attention immediately went to the place Danny had been lying when he left. A stain of blood was evident but blended nicely with the pattern in the carpet. He was not there, so he quickly took in the rest of the room. "Where's Detective Williams?" he demanded of Gino Leone who was sitting at the bar at the back of the room sipping a dark liquid on ice. He appeared to be awaiting his arrival.

"He's resting comfortably. Don't worry." Leone finished off the last of the drink in one gulp and set the glass down with a clink on the marble top before descending to the lower level of the room.

One of the henchmen wrapped Steve's arms behind his back and secured them once again.

"Tony? You got anything on this Ellie Clayton yet?"

"Still working on it, boss. Shouldn't be much longer."

Steve bristled at the casual mention of the tracking down of his friend. Leone saw and enjoyed his uneasy look.

"Guess you're wondering what's next for you and your buddy. Right?"

"I want to see him. He needs medical attention."

"He got it. Like I said, he's resting. No need to disturb him now. So, am I right? Are you interested in what's next?"

Steve didn't answer. His brow knitted as he stared the man down.

"Okay… well, I'll tell you. We're gonna wait. If this lead doesn't produce the goods, then you and I… and your partner… have some more discussing to do. If it does produce the package, as I expect it will since you're not too keen on what we found out, then… well, let's just say we'll part ways… permanently."

"Oh, we'll part ways, but it's not going to be the way _you're_ thinking."

Leone raised one side of his face in an entertained smirk. "You're so predictable, Commander. I wouldn't expect anything less."

Leone's phone buzzed. "Lucky? Anything? … um, hm … I see. Where's she heading? … You got someone on the way to the airport? … If you don't make it in time, contact Oscar and get the boys to LaGuardia to intercept. … Okay, good then. Thanks, for handling this, Lucky." He put his phone in his pocket and returned his attention to Steve.

"So, as you may have gotten from that, we found Ms. Clayton. She's scheduled on a flight to my hometown. Interesting? Huh?"

"Look, let me give her a call. If she's got the box, I'll have her leave it at the will call desk for you. You'll have what you want. She can go ahead and make her flight. Then you can do whatever with me. Come on."

"With _you_? You didn't mention our other guest."

"You can let him go too. He's oblivious to what's going on. There's no way he's going to know who you are or how to find you. I'm the only one who knows. Do what you want with me, then you can get off the island."

"Hmm." Leone turned his back to Steve with his hands on his hips. After his swim, he had changed into a _bit_ more compatible attire for the island. The seafoam linen jacket his arms were holding back, paired agreeably with straw colored slacks and loafers. Still a bit dressy, but he was getting closer. He thought a moment then turned back. "You may be right. That may work."

Steve hesitantly smiled, thinking he had possibly gotten through to the wiseguy.

"…but, that's not my style. If you knew me better, you'd know I didn't get where I'm at leaving loose ends behind."

Steve's heart sank. Had he actually believed this man was going to accommodate his request? Things looked bleak and he didn't know his next move.

"Look at the bright side, if this all works out, your sister and aunt won't be hearing from us. They'll be mourning you and your partner… along with Uncle Bru… eh, Leonard, but they'll be left alone to live their lives and won't know any different."

"I'll tell you what. If you do anything to harm Ellie, my sister, aunt or anyone I love, you're gonna live to regret it. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, tough guy, I hear ya." Leone waved his arm in dismissal as he left Steve to fume.

~~~~~H50~~~~~

Not long after Leone had left, Tony and another of his unnamed men approached Steve. Tony grabbed his arm and commanded, "Let's go."

"Where're we going?"

"Boss said you can see your friend."

Steve felt a rejuvenation mixed with a little trepidation. _Was he showing a benevolent side or was he just giving them a chance at saying goodbye?_ He was led to another room down the hall, still in the basement. Tony opened the door and released his hold on Steve, allowing him to go in.

The windowless room was large and was obviously made for storage. Fluorescent lights were already turned on and made the room bright and easy to see the contents. Metal shelving lined three of the walls and was fully stocked with nonperishable food items, cases of water and other drinks, paper products, office supplies, and cleaning products. There were stocks of diapers, toys, and other child friendly necessities and there was even pet food of all kinds, probably to accommodate guests' beloved animals if they accompanied their owners on their holiday to the islands.

An obvious adaptation to the room was the addition of a cot, stretched out in front of the back row of shelves. The temporary bed was not unlike the rest of the residence, very plush and comfortable looking with a thick mattress and high quality, sturdy frame.

Predictably, Danny occupied the cot and looked to be asleep, resting comfortably as Steve had been told. He was no longer wearing his shirt and there was a sheet covering him to his chest under his arms that were still bound by a cable tie. His injured arm had a gauze bandage wrapped around it and the gunshot wound below his shoulder had been bandaged and covered over with medical tape. There was also one butterfly bandage above his eyebrow. Bruising had set in over his face but Steve was thankful because he thought he looked to be pain free and peaceful.

"Danny?" he whispered.

"He's been given pain killers and sedatives. He won't wake up for a while," Tony informed.

The other man stepped around Steve and approached Danny. He pulled out his gun from under his jacket and pointed it at Danny's head.

Steve's eyes widened in fear. "Whoa, whoa, what 'cha doing? You didn't bring me here to watch you shoot him! Come on, man!" Steve begged. He then felt Tony grab his hands behind his back and he felt a jerk as his arms fell free. The man with the gun watched Steve carefully, daring him to make a move while Tony reaffixed Steve's arms in front of him. Once he was secure, the threatening stance was relaxed and the man put away the gun. Before leaving, Tony hooked his foot around the leg of a chair that was against the wall, dragging it closer to the cot. Steve and Danny were left alone.

* * *

 _~to be continued~_

\,,,/


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:** This is the end, except for a short epilogue I'm going to post with this. Please forgive the lag in my posting. I've been watching the World Cup to fuel my procrastination but mostly I've struggled with getting this out here because it feels inadequate. I got tired of arguing with the muse about possibly rewriting, so out of exasperation, I've decided to just go ahead and post it as the muse gave it to me the first time around. It was just meant to be a shortish story to appease the whump lover in me. I apologize if it disappoints. I'll try to make it up to you on a later story._

 _I'd like to sincerely thank all those who have tried the story, followed it and then even saw fit to favorite it. Then I got these wonderful comments from some beautiful people. It is so appreciated!_

 _I'd like to give a special, huge, heartfelt **thank you** for a certain individual who did something so wonderful. I hope she doesn't mind me mentioning her. Astrollama, you're awesome!_

 _ **Disclaimer** : I do not own anything that is a proper noun. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

They were finally alone. The chair screeched its protest on the tile floor of the storage room as Steve pushed it a bit closer to Danny's bedside. He sat and reached his arms out but hesitated. His hands hovered above Danny's arm for a moment before giving in to the urge for contact. The touch let him feel the warmth and proof that he, in fact, was alive… at least for now. He wished he could promise Danny he was going to get them out of this, but he still didn't have a plan, and he reluctantly had to admit to himself that he may have actuated harm to Ellie as well.

"I'm sorry, Danny. Looks like I blew it."

To his surprise, he saw a slight movement. _Was Danny shaking his head?_

"Danny?"

Danny's eyes opened and sought out Steve's. "You sure are a Debbie Downer," he mumbled. "I'm supposed to be the one…" He stopped mid-statement to lick his lips and swallow hard. Steve jumped up and peeled a bottle of water from one of the plastic wrapped cases. He cracked it open as he sat back down.

"I'm not going to be able lift your head and hold the bottle at the same time."

"It's okay," Danny got out as he maneuvered himself to raise up on his elbow. He winced as he felt the pain in his other shoulder. Steve helped him take a sip as some drops rolled down his chin and onto the mattress due to the awkward position. "That's better… _I'm_ supposed to be the one who's a negaholic," he finished. "Remember?"

Ignoring the accusation, "I thought they gave you something to keep you knocked out a while?"

"What? Disappointed? Not jumping up and going for a jog or anything."

"How ya feeling?"

"Not bad. Kinda numb. Tired."

"Here, lie back. You need to rest." Steve helped him get comfortable again. "Numb's good. Probably the meds they gave you. Looks like somebody also did a pretty good job of patching you up."

"See, they wouldn't have done that if they were just gonna kill us. … Whoa, did some Freaky Friday thing just happen here? Think we just switched places. You're acting like me and I'm acting like you. Don't like it."

Steve enjoyed the familiar attempt at humor to contrast with the gravity of their current situation but jumped right to refuting his claim. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Danno. They're just making sure they get what they're after. They fixed you up and are keeping us alive in case they need us again, but if they get that box, then we're expendable. They won't need us anymore."

"What d'ya mean 'if they get the box'? What the hell happened after they tried to turn me into a piece of Swiss cheese? Steven? What about Ellie?" Danny braced to endure some more pain as he attempted to sit up again.

"Would you calm down already? Give me a minute and I'll tell you. Here, settle back down."

Even though he got the result he wanted, Danny gave up a little too quickly for Steve's taste. He lay back, rolled his eyes, and turned his head away from Steve. If Danny wasn't going to put up a fight, he must not be as "healthy" as he made out to be. "I took them to the credit union, where the box was."

"Was?"

"Yeah, I was hoping it would still be there, that I got the timing wrong, but Ellie had already been there. She's got the box and Leone's got her name and they are looking for her. Sounds like they've tracked her to the airport. She's on her way to New York."

"We gotta get outta here. These guys would do… Well, you know."

"I know," he snapped. "I know," he more reservedly slowed and toned down his speech. "I'm working on it."

Danny was still looking at the ceiling. "You'll think of something. Just don't do anything stupid." When he realized the absurdity of that statement, he added, "This stuff's got me loopy. Of course, you're going to do… some… thing stu…." He closed his eyes and drifted off again.

Satisfied that Danny wasn't in any urgent danger, Steve hastily stood and started combing through the inventory of the room. He had to find a way out so he could get to Ellie or, at least, get help to her before it was too late. He glanced back at Danny wondering how he was going to safely get him out in his condition, even if he did find a way out of this room. "First things first," he breathed to himself as he started with the office supplies to see if there was anything sharp like a pair of scissors, envelope opener, pens or pencils, or heck, maybe he could even do something with a staple remover.

Their captors must have thought along those same lines and removed them, if they even ever existed, because he found nothing like that. He found reams of paper, ink and toner cartridges, tape, and glue, but nothing sharp. He then went to the side of the room that had cabinets and drawers instead of shelving and starting opening each door and pulling out each drawer to see if there was _anything_ he could use to slice through their bonds and/or possibly use as a makeshift weapon.

There was nothing in the cabinets, no dishes or glasses to break into sharp pieces. He was met with the same as he pulled out each drawer, no knives, no utensils, no anything. He determinedly committed to checking each drawer, even though he knew what he'd find. As he slammed the last one closed in frustration and discouragement, a distant boom caused him to freeze and listen. He instinctually turned his head toward the sound. The sound repeated followed by other familiar pops. He looked over at Danny, but he didn't move. _Still out of it._ He went to the door and tried the handle for the first time, knowing what he'd find. _Locked_. He inspected the door to see if there was a chance of breaking it down, but it opened into the room and he knew there was no busting it down. Then he laid his ear against the door to see if he could ascertain what was going on outside the walls of this room. The sounds stopped. Silence seeped into the room.

Several minutes went by like this. There was no noise until he finally heard muffled voices and footsteps outside in the hall. His self-preservation instinct kicked in and he grabbed a large Number 10 size can of tomatoes off one of the shelves and stood to the side of the door as the voices got nearer.

"Commander McGarrett? Are you here?" The unfamiliar voice had clearly said his name. His pragmatic side immediately tamped down the flutter of hopefulness.

"Steve! … Danny?!"

A new voice was calling their names. Chin's voice… Chin's sweet, sweet _familiar_ voice filtered into the room.

"Chin? Chin! In here!" He set his 'weapon' on the floor and banged on the door as he yelled.

"Steve! Step away, we're blowing it!"

Steve backed up and without thinking, crouched in front of Danny's head as a shield for his partner. The door handle skittered across the floor after the loud boom. What remained of the door was a mangled mess that was easily pushed open. Chin entered first, geared up with tactical vest and shotgun held at the ready. He was followed by even more armored SWAT officers.

"It's just us, Chin," Steve informed as he held up his palms to deflate the tension.

Chin dropped the aim of his gun to the floor and turned back to those that entered with him. "We're good, guys. Check the rest."

"I sure am glad to see you, buddy," Steve said in relief.

"Ditto. You had us worrie... Danny?!" Chin saw Danny for the first time and dropped to his knee beside him. "What happened?"

"We need to get him some help. I think he's going to be okay. He has a gunshot wound to the shoulder and his arm was grazed. They patched him up pretty good and they said they gave him painkillers and sedatives. He's _been_ awake but he's pretty much out of it now."

"Looks like he's also been in the ring with a bear."

"Yeah, they did a pretty good number on him," Steve admitted.

Chin pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt. "We'll get the medics in here as soon as the place is secure. Are _you_ hurt?"

"No, no, I'm good. How did you…?"

"Let's just call it perfect timing." He cut through the plastic around Danny's wrists and stood and did the same for Steve. "I'll tell you more later. Now let's concentrate on getting you guys outta here."

A couple more distant gunshots rang out. "Here. Gimme a gun, I can help."

"U. S. Marshalls and SWAT's got it under control. Already got two men down and four in custody. Lou and Kono's giving an assist, too."

"Six? That's all I've seen, but there could be more… Marshalls? Never mind." Steve's mind was going a mile a minute. "Ellie …Ellie! Chin! We gotta get someone to the airport now! Ellie Clayton, she's in danger."

Chin held his finger up to his boss, blatantly disregarding Steve's plea, as he touched the earpiece with his other hand. "Kono, status report."

"Chin?!" Steve was annoyed and impatient.

"Copy. Good. I've found Steve and Danny. We're in the basement. Danny's hurt. Send the medics and you all can come on down." Chin redirected his attention to Steve. "We're all clear. Gino Leone's in custody with four of his men. There're three down."

"Chin?!" _Why was he not listening to him_? "That's all well and good, but listen to me, we've _got_ to get to the airport! Ellie is…"

"…right here. I'm fine, Steve." Ellie held onto the doorframe as she stepped into the room. Kono was right behind her, holstering her gun as she came in. She stepped to the side so the medics could step between them carrying a stretcher and supplies. One paused to check on Steve.

"I'm good! Help him!" He anxiously pointed to his partner. They immediately moved on to Danny's side to do their preliminary assessment.

"Ellie?!" Steve combed both hands through his hair as relief shined on his face. He blew out a lungful of air before stepping forward to meet her in a hug. Then, he pushed her to arms-length so he could take a better look. She was dressed similarly to Kono with jeans, boots, and tac vest and had her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. She was not sporting the same firepower, though.

Steve looked back at Chin. "Chin, what about Mary… and Deb?"

"They're fine. We've had a detail on them since you guys went missing."

Relieved, Steve turned back to Ellie. "What the hell? I thought… I thought they were… I thought you…"

Ellie smiled reassuringly. "No, I was never at the airport. You wouldn't believe it, Steve. Everything worked out. The timing was perfect."

"I'm gonna need to hear about this 'perfect timing' thing," Danny was awake again and gesturing his hand toward Steve and Ellie as the medics carried him out on a stretcher.

Steve grabbed his hand as he went by. The medics stopped to give them a minute. "Hey, I told you I'd have a plan to get us out of this. Didn't I?"

"Sure, babe," Danny patronized. "You had me worried there for a minute, but ya did good."

Steve conceded a small knowing smile. "Must not be Friday anymore, sounds like we're back to our old selves."

Danny nodded with a reciprocated grin as they carried him out of the room.

Ellie looked up at Steve in confusion. "What?"

He shook his head in dismissal. Ellie looked at Kono for help.

Kono questioningly shrugged at her and then swatted the air. "It's just their thing. I wouldn't waste my time."

Ellie gave a quick, accepting smile. Steve wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Sooo… why are _you_ here?"

"I couldn't miss the fun." Then realizing she needed to make sure he understood whom he needed to blame for her presence, she added, "It's not Chin's fault. I insisted. Don't worry. He laid down the law first."

"Mm, hm." Not quite satisfied, they walked out together, eventually getting the satisfaction of seeing Leone loaded into the back of a cruiser. As Leone made eye contact with him, Steve pulled Ellie a little closer to emphasize Leone's failure.

Leone resisted the push into the car just long enough to address Steve's smugness. "I shoulda took care of the both of yous while I had the chance."

"Yeah, Gino, I guess you should have." Once the cruiser left with Leone. Steve looked at Ellie. "Let's go check on Danny before they take him off."

Ellie smiled and nodded and they contentedly made their way toward the ambulance.

* * *

 _~The End… sort of… epilogue to follow~_

 **\,,,/ BronsonL**


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: GO BACK AND READ CHAPTER 7** if you haven't already. I'm posting two at once._

* * *

 **EPILOGUE**

"Thanks, doc," Steve told the doctor as he shook his hand before he left to check on his other patients.

Steve stepped back into the crowded room. Danny was sitting up in the bed surrounded by his ohana, who, on this occasion in particular, included Ellie. They had just received a good report from the doctor. Danny was on the road to recovery and would be back to work in short order.

"It's about time, babe. We've been waiting on you. Did you have a nice talk with the doctor?" Danny's sarcasm was evident.

"Just wanted to make sure I understood his discharge instructions," he said apologetically in explanation.

"Um, you're not in charge of that," Danny indifferently informed him.

"Sure I am."

"Nope." Danny was shaking his head.

"Will you two please give it a rest?" Lou implored.

"Yeah, come on, guys," Kono added in agreement.

"No, you're not," Danny got in the last word on that topic before moving on. "Can we please hear the specifics about how the timing in _your_ plan was so flawless?"

"Yeah, uh _my_ plan… Ellie?" Steve stumbled even though he knew Danny was just razzing him.

Ellie came through for her friend. "Okaaay, well, basically it was just dumb luck. I had sent my paralegal ahead of me to New York to take care of some things before I arrived. Then, I got caught up in a trial. I held my ticket for the flight though, just in case I could make it at the last minute. I guess that was the flight info Leone's men got, but I didn't make it."

Chin jumped in, "And when you didn't show up at the airport, they panicked. They had sent word back to the mansion and I think you boys were in for some big trouble if we hadn't gotten there when we did. They were on their way back to rendezvous with the others but they unfortunately discovered we were there first."

"But, how did you know?" Danny asked before Steve could.

"Yeah. How did you find out about Leone and where we were?" Steve wondered as well.

"Well, a few things came together," Chin said.

"Yeah, here comes more of that perfect timing thing," Lou added.

Chin took back over, "So, when you two didn't show back up at the palace that day, we figured something was wrong. We couldn't reach either of you on your phones and they had been disabled so we couldn't ping them. The _initial_ follow-up at the storage facility checked out. The worker said you had been there, gotten a file, and left."

"Well, that's just fantastic. The security cameras? The damage to the door from my gunshot? Anything?"

"The cameras weren't working."

"Figures." Danny remembered his jocular interaction with the impotent equipment.

"Door?" Chin questioned, puzzled.

"Yeah, door… to the office… the one they kept locked to keep out the riff raff?"

"There was no door."

"No door? At all? You gotta be kidding me. Guess they didn't want anyone seeing the damage from my bullet."

"The Camaro's GPS confirmed you had been there and left, so we didn't give much more thought to the storage place. We _did_ find the car abandoned at the docks, but that led to a dead end and really, more questions. There were no prints or evidence and we didn't know if you were even still on the island since the car was at the shipping location. We also assumed you were together."

"Okay, sooo… then what?" Steve was eager for more.

"Well, we were pretty much at a loss. Then, we got a random call at headquarters from a Captain Sutter."

Steve smiled in realization.

"Captain _who_?" Danny looked confused. "Why do you have that smile plastered on your face, babe?"

Chin addressed Danny directly since Steve seemed to know where this was going. "Turns out Captain Sutter had run into a certain, former subordinate of his at the Navy FCU." He tilted his hand toward Steve and smiled at him. "He was reaching out to set up an outing or at least get Steve's number so he could call him directly, but when we heard about his encounter with Steve at the credit union, things got rolling. The security cameras _there_ gave us the facial recognition we needed to identify Gino Leone's right-hand man, Luka Giovanni, aka Lucky."

Ellie added more, "The other thing is, the box had made it to the New York District Attorney. I had sent it with Julie, my paralegal. The first thing she did when she arrived in New York was to deliver it to the DA's office so she could lighten her load and move on with her tasks. That started the process there. The ADA sent the box to the lab and they got what they needed on Gino Leone. The officials had been keeping tabs on him with the reactivation of his case, so they knew he was in Oahu and they communicated their intentions to move in to the governor who, in turn, let your team know what was going on."

"So, _we_ knew the who and the _feds_ let us know the where. We made it a joint operation with the U. S. Marshals. Now, you know the rest. Gino Leone should be going away permanently this time."

"That's one sentencing, I think I'll make plans to be at," Steve declared.

A spark of interest flared in Danny's eyes as he shifted forward by elbowing the mattress behind him. "Let me ask you something. _You're..._ going to go and visit the big city? New York City? You know, there're no palm trees and no driving your own car… or my own car I should say, and then there's all the noise, smells, crowds, concrete, and bitter cold… You know what? I think I'll come along. I miss all that stuff. We can swing over to Jersey and stay at Mom and Pop's and I'll show you around my old stomping grounds."

"Okay, yeah, sure." Steve reluctantly accepted, not being able to come up with a good excuse for changing his mind on short notice. Then he remembered a possible out. "Uh, you know, I may need to finish up with the Barrister case first…"

"Say no more." Kono interrupted, trying to be 'helpful'. "Barrister's been taken care of, boss."

Somewhat rankled and disappointed at Kono's choice of timing, Steve mustered, "Oh… oh, is that so?"

Chin nodded and added, "That's true. You know, it wasn't until we talked to you, that we found out that you and Danny had been kept at separate locations, at least in the beginning. Danny let us know about the storage unit they had held him in, so Lou went _back_ and checked it out and confirmed he had been held on the top floor, the floor that didn't have any renters yet since the place was so new."

"He was secluded and wouldn't be, and couldn't be, heard with the insulation they put in those indoor units now," Lou said. "They had it rigged with a camera, which was the feed you saw, McGarrett."

"You got to see me on the big screen?" Danny spoke with his high pitch voice and smiled at his partner. "So then, you got to see I've got some badass, ninja moves of my own too, huh?"

"Yeah, I got to see you get your badass kicked."

"Hey, it wasn't a fair fight. Two against one with my hands tied…"

"Nah, you did good, buddy. You tried."

"Did you get the punk at the storage place?" Danny asked Lou.

"Yep, got him _and_ finally got what we needed on Barrister while we were at it. I don't know why you and McGarrett have to make things so difficult."

"Hey! It's not _me_. _He's_ the one always getting us in trouble." Then turning his attention to Steve. "Just try not to get us shot, stabbed, kidnapped, blown up, or shot while we're in New York and Jersey, would ya?"

"Negaholic," Steve succinctly retorted.

Once again Kono and Ellie shared a look but this time, Ellie wasn't confused. She understood they were speaking in their own language.

After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke again and corrected his partner, "You said 'shot' twice."

* * *

 _~verus finis~_

 _ **A/N:** You know, according to the ep, there was at least one other Leone brother, maybe more. Would he/they be a little ticked? …Hmm._

 **\,,,/ BronsonL**


End file.
